


a timeless magic

by orphan_account



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:52:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5898988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there’s a magic in the circus, but be careful to only watch from afar because, if it catches you, it’s a magic that refuses to let go</p>
            </blockquote>





	a timeless magic

She still has the ticket stub from her first visit.

The once brilliantly bright yellow paper is now faded, rendering the words barely legible. The corners are dog-eared, there’s an annoying ring stain slap-bang in the middle, and it still has that faint smell of smoke.

It’s her greatest treasure.

She keeps it under lock and key in a small chest, hidden under her bed, far away from prying eyes and wandering hands, waiting for the day the circus comes back to town.

* * *

 

The posters show up out of nowhere and, for a full week, it’s like someone has laced the air with electricity. Neither their teachers or their parents can get them to concentrate and, after a while, they stop trying. All anyone can talk about is the impossibly large, golden and ruby striped tent that somehow appears overnight in the spacious fields surrounding their small town.

They whisper and gossip about the curious characters they see emerging from the tent at night, laughing and singing as they pull equipment from an equally large van and take it into the tent in preparation for the big night.

The children take to peeking through the fence that separates the town and field late at night and Wendy Marvell swears she sees a mermaid. Everyone hushes her, putting her statement down to late nights and childish delusions.

‘There’s no way they have a real mermaid’ they say, ‘it’s just a trick, a clever trick.’

Lucy disagrees. There’s a magic surrounding the circus. She can feel it in the air.

* * *

It’s opening night and they all trip over their feet as they hurry up the lantern lit path the circus staff have created for them, clutching their bright yellow tickets tightly in their hands.

Everyone is so excited, they don’t dare to speak as they step over the threshold, preparing to commit this moment to memory. Brightly coloured banners and streamers blow in the wind as trumpets blare while ushers direct them to their dark red, leather seats.

They speak in hushed tones as they settle themselves into their seats, practically vibrating from the excitement of what’s to come. _Lions, elephants, trapeze artists, mermaids, magic_ and more. The mysterious posters promise so much and the audience expects it all.

Lucy sits on the very edge of her seat, fingers gripping the armrests tightly as smoke begins to billow from round the edges of the room. The whole town has been crammed into the tent but, in that instance, only silences echoes off the canvas walls.

The show is about to begin.

The town seem to collectively hold their breath as a man, an impossibly tall man, strides out from the shadows and makes his way to the middle of the ring. He stares at them for long moment, slowly craning his head around the tent as he takes them all in, as if he’s trying to commit _them_ all to memory.

Just as they begin to get restless, wondering perhaps if this strange man with an even stranger moustache has forgotten his lines, he claps his hands together creating a sound that echoes louder than thunder.

The ring bursts into flames.

The audience screech and shout as the flames travel upwards, winding themselves around the beams that hold the tent upright. People begin to push themselves up from their seats, wondering if something has gone wrong. The flames inch higher and higher towards the curved ceiling.

“Welcome,” a boom cuts out through the noise, silencing them once again. Everyone freezes in their spot but not Lucy. Lucy raises her head and looks at the flames. They’re no longer a dark orange but instead a brilliant blue, illuminating the man in the middle of the ring. They dance around him, licking at his feet and fingertips as he moves slowly around the ring.

_I was right_ , she thinks as she leans forward in her seat, a soft smile tugging at her lips, _there is a magic to this circus_.

“Welcome,” the man says again, “to the _Spirit World._ ”

* * *

She’s soaked.

They’re _all_ soaked.

The mermaid is grinning smugly at them, leaning out of the glass box full of water that’s been suspended in the air with string far too fine for any of them to see. Her long blue tail sparkles and shines in the candlelight, showing off hints of shiny purples and greens.  

_Aquarius._

It’s a very fitting name, Lucy decides as she watches the mermaid splash back into the glass box, drenching the entire west side of the tent. She twists and turns in the box, her tail and hips gently swaying in rhythm to the soft song being played on a harp by a woman seated on a raised perched below.

The song reaches its conclusion and Aquarius winks.

Lucy clutches her ticket to her chest as the woman playing the harp strums one final loud note, and the glass box explodes. Aquarius raises her hands into the air as a curtain of water falls around her. But it doesn’t hit the ground and neither does she. The water curves itself around Aquarius’ body, covering her like a gown. 

She looks beautiful.

Magical. _Ethereal_.

Aquarius laughs before she claps her hands and everything goes black.

Water falls from the sky, drenching the entire tent. When the candles flicker back to life, there’s no sign of Aquarius, just the echo of her deep, throaty chuckle to remind them that she was even there.

* * *

There’s an intermission but nobody gets up from their seats. Instead they swivel around and talk in excited tones, arguing over what was the best act from the night so far.

_‘Aquarius.’_

_‘No, Pisces!’_

The crowd seated in the area near Lucy hums in agreement and she can’t help but nod as well. The acrobatic mother and son team known as Pisces _were_ amazing, with the death defying stunts that had them flying through the air.

_‘What about Sagittarius?’_ someone asks, and they immediately all begin nodding in agreement. Sagittarius the fire eater. What could top that?

The tent darkens again and they all turn their attention back to the ring to watch as a man saunters out from the shadows.

Lucy cocks her head to the side intrigued as the man gives them a deep bow, his messy golden locks fluttering in the wind as he ducks his head. Unlike the other performers so far, he’s not dressed in an eye-catching outfit and doesn’t step into the ring with any equipment or amid loud fanfare. She frowns as she watches him dust off his tuxedo and run a hand through his hair.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he purrs quietly, yet somehow his voice reaches her with perfect clarification, as if he were whispering directly into her ears, “are you ready for a show?”

The answering collective bellow from the audience is almost deafening, but he merely winks and nods.

“Then, I shall give you a show.”

For some reason, Lucy can’t help but feel nervous as she watches him lift one gloved hand into the air. With all the other performers, their act had been obvious from the start, but this man gives nothing away. Is he a juggler? Another acrobat? A poorly dressed clown?

A low growl erupts from the shadows and she feels her breath hitch in her throat.

_A lion tamer._

The beast moves slowly, growling quietly with each large paw it slams to the ground. For the second time that night, complete silence entirely engulfs the tent.

“This,” the man says, circling the lion slowly, “this is Leo.”

Leo roars in answer, and Lucy feels the hairs on her arm stand upright. The man doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he grins. Lucy’s eyes widen slightly as she watches his lips turn upwards into a lopsided, lazy grin.

“Now, now, Leo,” he purrs, inching closer to the lion, “that’s no way to behave when we’ve got a room full of guests, is it?”

Leo roars again before apparently deciding he’s had enough with all the talking. The audience collectively gasps as Leo lunges forwards, paws swiping furiously at his master. Lucy slides forwards to the edge of her seat, her gasp stuck in her throat as she watches the man easily dodge and dive, seemingly barely affected by Leo’s advances.

It’s like a dance, Lucy realises halfway into the act. A weird, extremely dangerous dance. But a dance all the same. The man moves with incredible grace, sliding and dashing across the ring floor, in tune with a melody that only he, and perhaps Leo, could hear.

The audience plays their part perfectly, ooh-ing and aah-ing and gasping at the right moments, covering their faces and peeking out between stretched fingers when it looked like the lion might actually land its target. He never did.

A few times, the man would allow Leo to get dangerously close before he would wink and slide out from underneath him, causing the lion to roar in anger.

He was teasing him.

Lucy sighs as she drops her chin in the palm of her hands, watching intently as the man decides enough is enough. He leaps off the ground, catapulting himself into the air and onto the lions back with such an ease, she wonder if there are invisible strings tugging him upwards.

The crowd cheers so loudly she fears it might deafen her as he guides the lion around the edge of the ring, apparently having tamed him. The move to the middle of the ring where the man gives them another deep bow. 

Then, as Leo the lion roars one last time, everything goes black. And, just like Aquarius, the lion tamer disappears, leaving only a teasing laugh in his wake.

* * *

She hangs back when everyone else leaves, arguing loudly over who was the best act of the night. She knows who the best act was. There’s no arguing about it in her mind.

The lion tamer.

She frowns as she dips behind the canvas sheet of the tent and peers around the now empty ring. Her fingers tap impatiently against the jean fabric of her trousers as she inches forwards.

There’s a magic to this circus and she can feel it pulling her in.

She reaches the edge of the ring and places a tentative hand against the barrier separating it from the audience. Something seems to surge through her as her fingers grip the cool iron and her eyes flutter shut. Immediately, it’s like she’s been transported through time.

She sees herself standing in the ring, grinning coyly at the excited audience as she cracks her whip, slicing the air around her. She leaps and lunges over obstacles, the whip following her every move, trailing after her like a snake. The audience love it. They cheer and shout and beg for more and s-

“Are you lost?”

She shrieks, stumbling forwards as someone touches her arm.

She nearly falls into the ring, but a strong hand reaches out and steadies her before she drops. She steadies herself and tries to think of a good excuse, sure she’s about to be scolded but, as she turns to face the person who caught her, she finds only a curious grin.

It’s the lion tamer.

He looks different up close. His lips are split into a boyish, lopsided grin, and she realises his golden locks aren’t all that golden and are more a burnt orange than anything else. His eyes are covered with tinted glasses, but she gets the feeling he’s staring directly into her eyes.

She gulps and nervously glances away. “Sorry.”

“What’s there to be sorry about?” he asks, and she looks up to see the grin has disappeared only to be replaced by a frown. She decides she likes it better when he’s smiling.

“Trespassing?” she asks, forcing herself to meet his gaze. The grin returns again and she feels her heart go _ba-dump_. “I liked your act,” she says quickly, “it was probably my favourite one.”

“Oh?” he quirks an eyebrow and leans against the barrier of the ring, standing so close to her that his arm brushes against hers.

_Ba-dump._

She swallows and nods, not trusting her voice not to come out like a squeak instead of an actually coherent sentence.

He smiles again and this time it seems to light up his whole face. “That’s a first. Usually people can’t stop talking about Aquarius.”

“She _was_ amazing,” Lucy agrees, eyes shining as she remembers the mermaid twisting and turning in her glass box, “but so were you. I was on the edge of my seat for the whole act.”

“What?” he turns to her, a look of mock outrage plastered across his face, “you didn’t think I could do it?”

She laughs and shakes her head, a feeling of ease washing over her with each passing second, “I knew you’d do it,” she says honestly, realising there was never actually a moment during the show where she had truly feared for him, “I just wanted to see _how_.”

“Ah,” he taps his nose, “magic.”

“I know,” she sighs, leaning back to stare at the top of the tent, “I can feel it.” If she concentrates just enough, she can see it as well. It coats the tent like a brightly coloured blanket, seeping into the consciousness of all those around it.

“Not many people can feel the magic,” he says, brows furrowing in the middle as he turns to look at her, “you should go home.” 

He says it like a warning, and she doesn’t dare disobey. With a shaky nod she turns to leave, but stops.

“What’s your name?” she asks, glancing back, “you didn’t introduce yourself when you started your act.”

He pauses for a moment before he says, “Loke, and yours?”

“Lucy.”

His lips curve upwards into that funny grin that makes her heart go _ba-dump_. “It was lovely to meet you, Lucy.”

* * *

The circus is in town for a month. 

There’s something about the circus that pulls her back every night. By the end of her third visit, she’s one first name terms with all the performers.

She sits in the same seat and watches with wide eyes as Aquarius dances to Lyra’s songs. She claps and gasps as Pisces fling themselves through the air. She giggles and cheers when Gemini grace the stage for their clown act.

And she watches, with baited breath, when Loke appears with his lion.

* * *

“Trespassing again?”

She laughs and waves to Loke as he enters the empty tent, finding her leaning against the barrier of the ring once again.

It’s become part of her routine now, to duck back under the canvas tent once the audience has left, and sit and wait for Loke to come and find her.

He always does. 

“You were great tonight,” she says, bumping her shoulder against his as he slides next to her.

“You say that every night.”

“Because it’s true.”

And it is. Every time she watches him in the ring, it’s like she’s watching him for the first time. She knows what’s going to happen, knows which way he’s going to turn, knows when he’s going to leap. But there’s something about him that keeps her on the edge of her seat, holding her breath as she waits for him to make his move. 

“You should really stop coming back,” he tells her and she rolls her eyes.

“You say _that_ every night.”

“Because it’s true.”

She frowns and looks up at him, “why?”

“Ah,” he taps his nose, the same way he always does, “magic.” 

* * *

“Why did you join the circus, Loke?”

“Magic.”

She scowls and nudges him in the stomach with her elbow. The circus has been in town for fifteen days and she’s visited it fifteen times. 

They’re lying in the field behind the large tent, looking up at the stars.

“Just answer the question.”

He laughs and rolls over so he’s laying on his side, “I did.”

“You _always_ answer with that.”

“Because it’s the truth.” 

“Then elaborate,” she sits upright and crosses her arms over her chest, fixing him with her best scowl, “how does the magic work?”

“Why?”

She hesitates and can feel the blush creeping up on her cheeks. “I want to know how someone might join.”

“Ah,” he frowns and lays back down, “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Loke lo-”

“I promise. I’ll tell you some other time.”

She stares at him for a few moments before she reluctantly nods. 

“Don’t forget.”

* * *

On her twenty-eighth visit, she realises she’s in trouble. 

“You’re leaving soon,” she sighs, watching as Loke feeds Leo his meal. In her periphery she can see Aquarius splashing Scorpio and Aries helping Gemini put their act away, “you’re _all_ leaving.”

He sighs as he stands upright and fixes her with a look she can’t quite place. “Yes.” 

“I wish you didn’t have to.” She pouts and looks around. Over the last twenty eight days, the circus performers have wormed their way into her heart and she’s not ready for them to go. She’s not ready for _him_ to go. 

“I know you do,” he sighs again.

“I could come with you,” she says coyly, watching him carefully to gauge his reaction, “I’m pretty good with a whip.”

“Lucy, Lucy, my Lucy,” he sighs and smiles sadly, “you should go home.” 

* * *

On the final night, she steps into the ring.

Or, she tries to. 

Her vision is blinded with tears. She’s not ready to say goodbye. To any of them, but least of all to _him_. She can see the magic much more clearly now. It’s wrapped itself almost entirely around her body and it whispers to her. It whispers in _his_ voice, coaxing her forwards, telling her to step into the ring.

And she doesn’t disobey. 

She steps forwards, eyes fluttering shut as visions of her and Loke standing in the ring taming lions together swim in her minds eye. 

"Lucy!”

She gasps as he pulls her back, crushing him against his chest as he tugs her away.

“What are you doing?”

She doesn’t even realise she’s been crying until he pulls away from her and dabs gently at her fallen tears with a handkerchief.

“Please don’t go,” she whispers, “or, at the very least, let me come with you.” 

He sighs and fixes her with that sad, sad, smile. “You should’ve gone home.” 

She nods in agreement. She _wishes_ she had gone home after the first show. Wishes she had never hung around and allowed him into her heart. 

“There’s a magic to this circus,” he mumbles, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss against her forehead, “but be careful to only watch from afar because, if it catches you, it’s a magic that refuses to let go.”

She nods again. She can feel the magic pulling her in. But, she thinks it’s not the magic _he’s_ talking about. It’s not the magic she can see, the magic that wraps itself around the tent, enticing the audience with promises of wonder and amazement. 

It’s a different kind of magic, one that’s wrapped itself around her heart and refuses to disappear. 

“You can’t stay,” he whispers, pressing another kiss against her forehead.

“ _Why_?”

He stays silent as he wraps his arms around her.

“Why?” she asks again, “why can’t I join?”

“Because,” he says slowly, his voice sounding heavy with emotion, “when the magic gets ahold of you, it doesn’t let you go.”

“I don’t _want_ it to let go.”

“You will. One day, you will.”

He’s wrong, she decides. He’s so very, _very_ , wrong.

* * *

She sits on top of the tallest hill in the town, watching as their van makes its way down the winding roads and disappears into the night. 

They’ll be back one day, he promises.

And so she waits.

* * *

The posters show up out of nowhere and, for a full week, it’s like someone has laced the air with electricity. 

Her lips curl up into a smile as she watches the golden and ruby tent erupt in the fields behind the town. 

* * *

“Trespassing again?”

“Fifty-two,” she says slowly, craning her head to get a look at him. He hasn’t changed a bit. Same boyish, lopsided grin, same messy burnt orange hair, same eyes, same _everything_.

She glances down at her hands, all wrinkled and scarred. 

She’s changed, she’s changed quite a lot. 

“You’ll have to explain?” he asks as he leans against the barrier to the ring and bumps his arms against hers, as if the last time they had done this had been mere days ago.

“It’s been fifty-two years,” she says with a sad smile of her own, tucking a greying strand of hair behind her ear, “since you last came to town.”

“Oh?” he frowns and scratches at his chin, “really? It’s…tricky, keeping up with time in here. And anyway,” he cocks his head to the side and fixes her with his trademark grin, “you don’t look it.”

She throws back her head and last. He hasn’t changed. Not one bit. 

“Liar,” she croaks out, “liar, liar. You were wrong, by the way.”

“About what?”

“You said I’d want the magic to let go, one day.” 

She glances around the tent. The magic is still there, entwining itself with the air. It’s not pulling her in anymore. 

She smiles up at him and rests her hand against her heart. _That_ magic is still there, wrapped tightly around her heart. “But I don’t.”

“Lucy-”

“It’s pulling you too, isn’t it?” she asks, lifting a hand to tentatively rest against his own chest.

“It has been for a while.” 

“So stop fighting it,” she sighs as she stands upright. She hesitates for a fraction of a second before she extends her own hand and smiles when he finally takes it. 

They stare at each other for a few moments before he nods and slowly guides her towards the centre of the ring.

* * *

The posters show up out of nowhere and, for a full week, it’s like someone has laced the air with electricity.

The children all stare in awe at the large sheets of paper plastered against bus stops and walls. The circus promises a night of excitement, danger, and _magic_ thanks to its many acts. 

There’s Aquarius the mermaid, Sagittarius the fire eater, Gemini the clown act, and Loke and Lucy, the lion tamers.


End file.
